A Sasser Family Christmas Album Collection

 

 

Christmas at Aunt Laverne's and Uncle Wilson's house were always special.  I loved the two of them with all my heart.  Whenever we would get to Alabama my dad would wait for the light in the kitchen to come on next door and he would head over to have coffee with Uncle Wilson. There are only three girl cousins.  I am on the far left and the youngest by not even a month.  Sherry is in the middle and was always the favorite.  She is the oldest of the three.  Judy is on the far right.  Her birthday is in March, mine in April.  She belonged to Wilson and Laverne. 

 

Aunt Jeannette and Uncle Drew in front of their tree.  Drew was my father's baby brother by 11 months.  They were the parents of Mark.

Kelly and Matt belong to Mark.  Matt is his dad made over.  They are both grown now and very successful.  This Christmas picture was made at Drew and Jeannette's house in Goodwater.

Stacey belongs to Judy.  She is somewhere around eighteen months old here. She was adorable and I am so very proud of her today. 

My daughter Kat and her first bike at Christmas. 

 My very first guitar for Christmas - I was 3.

Our Christmas card from my very first Christmas.  I was 8 months old.

Aunt Virgina at Christmas at my house

Aunt MaeBelle with Brandy peeking over her shoulder.

Front - Uncle Wilson, l-r - Uncle Drew, Dad, Uncle Roy (Aunt Virginia's husband)

Uncle Roy and Aunt Virginia

 

Dougie at Christmas on Georgia Avenue.  Back in the day of real trees.

 

Cowboy Dougie

  

Dad and Mom at the lake house (top) Ronnie and Dad playing Santa(bottom) - check out that old school television. 

I have hundreds more pictures of Christmases past.  Today was just a few of the Sasser family and the pictures I had on me at school.  I hope you enjoyed my trip down Sasser memory lane.  If I left out a picture of you, please forgive me. My selection was limited.  I am working on a larger post for later with more photos.  Merry Christmas to all!

When My Son Found Out Santa Wasn't Real

"Mom? I have a question," Tommy said seriously one evening as I told him goodnight.

Oh God. Was he going to ask me something embarrassing? When Tom was in Korea he asked when he'd get hairs on his balls. I almost fell over from shock but I pulled myself together and answered the question. I never want him to feel ashamed on what he asks.

"Sure," I replied. If it were an awkward question, I'd call Tom up. This is his domain. He has the balls, he has the penis, he can answer the boy stuff. Otherwise I'm going to send Natalie to him when she wants to know what the blood in her pants mean. I mean, payback, right?

"Are you and Dad Santa?"

My heart dropped. I knew it was coming. Tommy is 11. He's probably beyond the age of most kids but he's always been so trusting.

"I--"I began. My tongue felt like it was glued to the roof of my mouth. "What do you think?" I always promised myself that I would be honest if he ever inquired about Santa. I thought I'd be able to say, "Yes. We are," no problem. But my heart squeezed a bit. This is because it's another step in my son growing up. Another notch. And soon he'll be in high school, sporting facial hair and wanting to know when he's getting a car. I panic just thinking about it. I'm finally getting over the shock of him being in middle school.

"I think, yes," Tommy admitted.

I swallowed. Cracked my knuckles even though it's a bad habit. "Well, yes, we buy the presents. But the spirit of Santa still lives," I said. "And please, whatever you do, don't tell your sister. She's only 6." I ran my fingers through Tommy's hair. "How are you feeling? You aren't betrayed, are you?"

Tommy gave me a funny look. "Uh, no. Why?"

I rolled my eyes. "Well, there are parents out there who tell their kids right away Santa isn't real for fear that it's lying to their kids or something. I think it's silly but if it's how they want to parent, so be it. Then there are some people who claim they felt betrayed when they found out Santa wasn't real. So are you? Betrayed? Should I call the therapist now?"

Tommy snorted. "Why would I be betrayed? It was a fun thing." He shrugged. "And now I know."

Oh, praise chocolate. No issues. No drama.

He's been great with not telling Natalie. If I talk about Santa around him, he gives me a wide smile when Natalie isn't looking. Like the other night I told Natalie, "Stop your yelling or else Santa won't give you any presents," and Tommy glanced over with a grin. When we went to Bass Pro Shops to see Santa, he said to me in private, "I know he's not real, but he's still a nice man."

So he gets it. He knows Santa isn't real. But he understands the spirit of Santa.

And that's pretty cool.

A Visit to a Christmas Past

I was sitting here at my desk today thinking about past Christmases and was overwhelmed with a mighty dose of nostalgia.  I sat here sad because it just does not feel like Christmas is like it used to be.  I laughed at myself because of course it isn't.  I am nearly sixty years old.  I have done the whole Christmas gauntlet from childhood, to parenthood, to grandparent hood.  As I sat at my desk I thought to one special Christmas year.  It was the year of no gifts.  We came to Christmas and somehow my presents all were left in Florida.  My mom explained the situation, told me Santa was leaving my gifts at our house because she forgot to send him our forwarding address,  and I should have put on my big girl panties and dealt with it....but that is easier said than done when you are twelve.  Yeah, I knew who Santa was....but I was not going to have the first present to open and it made me sad.  My parents spent the night with my Aunt Mae Belle and I did not want to.  So, I spent the night at my cousin Gary's house and was really having a blue Christmas.  Gary's wife, Sheila, tried her best to make it a good evening.  We made cookies and decorated them and we decorated a stocking for me to hang with theirs.  I figured I would get the traditional candy canes, nuts, an apple, and an orange.  We went to bed late and that was ok since I knew Santa was not stopping by.  Christmas morning I woke to the smell of breakfast and went to join the rest of the family.  When I passed through the living room on my way to the kitchen I was shocked to see a multitude of presents with my name on them.  I wondered if my mom was playing mind games on me about the presents left in South Florida.  We ate breakfast and gathered in their living room to open gifts.  The first present Gary put in my hands and the card read...."To Karen From Santa."  I opened the box and there was a make-up case, filled with lip glosses and eye shadows.  I was thrilled.  Everyone opened one gift and then we went around again.  This time I got some cute crocheted slippers.  Before the morning was up I had head bands, perfume, a charm bracelet, a necklace, powder, lotion...it was an awesome array of girly products and I was in seventh heaven.  Later in the morning we packed up all my gifts, got our food together and joined the rest of the family for lunch at my Aunt Virginias.  Sheila and Gary divorced shortly after that Christmas and I did not see her much after that.  I will always remember how special she was and that bleak looking Christmas that she made wonderful.  Sheila will always hold a dear place in my heart and wherever she is today I hope she knows somewhere in the world someone thinks she rocks! 

Things That Annoy Me Thursday: Wrapping Presents

Wrapping presents.

I suck at it.

People poke fun at how bad I am. Family members. Friends. Even the cat seems to smirk.

I start off thinking that everything will be okay.

But then I realize I haven't cut enough paper.

Ack!

This happens a lot. One would think I could look at a present and know right away how much paper I'll need. But no.

Sometimes I'll cut an added piece to cover the toy. This one I didn't because it's from Santa, therefore it will not be underneath the tree.

This is usually how I wrap things:

How do people get such nice corners? Mine are always loose and I sort of shove them down and quickly slap some tape over it. Most folks know if I've wrapped a present because of this.

"Oh! Amber did this one!" a friend once said as she examined the sloppy ends.

Yup.

Maybe if I slowed down and smoothed corners and all that, my presents would be pretty. As it is, I generally rush through it, wanting to slap the paper over the gift so I can be done with it. Sometimes I surprise myself and do a good job. Most of the time though...well, see above.

Lucky for me, I'm done wrapping presents this year. I await the insults.

Hi, I'm Amber, and I stink at wrapping stuff.

Sisterchicks Do The Hula

 

About The Book:  Some dreams take a while before they come true. Best friends Hope and Laurie never made it to Hawaii during their college years. But when they're about to turn forty, the islands still beckon, and off they go - with an unexpected stowaway on board (Hope happens to be seven months pregnant). A little pineapple, a little sunshine, and a surprising little surfing lesson give these two sisterchicks all their crazy hearts could hope for - and more - as they enter the next season of their lives with a splash and with a beautiful vision of what God has dreamed up for them.Wherever there’s chocolate, there’s sure to be a sisterchick celebrating, and this trip to Hawaii is no exception. Best friends Hope and Laurie are on an audacious mission to commemorate their fortieth birthdays in style. Surfing and sailing, sushi and snorkeling—these two macadamia nuts from the mainland sample it all, unhindered by a surprise little stowaway.  

 

Definition of Sisterchick: Sisterchick n.: a friend who shares the deepest wonders of your heart, loves you like a sister, and provides a reality check when you’re being a brat.  

 

Story Behind the Book:  We lived in Hawai’i when our son was in elementary school and have returned many times for visits. I have a deep and abiding love for all that is Hawaiian so of course the islands were my location of choice for this second Sisterchick novel. The art of hula is an intricate form of storytelling has gone through many changes over the years. Every woman’s life has a story. Every woman goes through many changes over the years. But not every woman has yet learned to "hula". This book will encourage her to "hula" through life as she learns to live out her story with the unforced rhythm of grace.

 

About The Author:  Robin Jones Gunn is the best selling Christian author of over 82 books including several series aimed at teen girls as well as Christian fiction for older women and a few non-fiction books. Her books have sold over 4.5 million copies worldwide.

 

My Thoughts On The Book:  This book could have been about me and my best friend.  I found it to be an easy read that was just a simple feel good story.  I enjoyed their trip to Hawaii and felt as if the perfectness of their trip mimiced my own when I took my best friend/sisterchicks for her fiftieth birthday As an amatuer photographer I was envisioning all the pictures they made and went to find my own album so I could see how I saw the island.  I really enjoyed the interesting historical tidbits the The author added . It made me want to visit Hawaii again.  This is an easy read that allows the reader just enjoy reading a book for the sake of reading.  If you have ever been a part of a sisterchick group, then you will understand what this book is all about. 

Statement of Disclosure: I received this book to review from Waterbrook Multnomah as part of their Blogging for Books review program in exchange for an honest review. I was not required to give a positive review. The opinions I have expressed are my own. Thanks guys for allowing me to review this book. 

Twas' the Week Before Christmas Hodge Podge.....

Welcome to the Wednesday Hodgepodge! Add your link at the end of Joyce's post by clicking here, then go say hi to your neighbors. Remember...no Hodgepodge next week (12/25) but do come back to ring in the new year the week after (1/1/14).   In the words of Tiny Tim, "God bless us everyone!"

1. Do you believe in miracles?  Yes I do.  I have seen many of them perfomed and am amazed each time.  My most recent experience of a miracle has to do with the premature birth (22 weeks) of little Kash and Kruze.  They were 2 months old on December 1st.  Their little lives and fight for survival has been nothing short of a miracle.

 Little Kruze

 Little Kash

2. What's a recent fad you admit to trying?  I am drawing a blank here.  I am not one to jump on the fad wagon.

3. Peppermint-are you a fan? If so, what's your favorite food or beverage containing peppermint?
I love peppermint.  My favorite foods would involve chocolate and peppermint.  I love them plain.  I love peppermint schnapps when my throat hurts or I have a cough. 

4. Break the ice, on thin ice, as cold as ice (emotionally, not literally) which phrase have you run into most recently? Explain.  I am notorious for procrasting and therefore find myself on thin ice more often than not.

5. Have you ever broken or spilled something in someone else's home? Still friends?
Red wine on white carpet and white walls.  I stepped on a doggie toy and the wine went all over the waiters coat, the wall and carpet.  I was mortified and actually cried.  The lady of the house brought out some seltzer water and blotted it all up and you would have never known it had been there.  It was amazing.

6. 'Tis the week before Christmas...are you feeling more like Buddy the Elf or the Grinch before his heart grew?  I am neither right now.  I am just trying to stay afloat. 

7. Share a favorite quote relating to Christmas."Christmas is not a time nor a season, but a state of mind. To cherish peace and goodwill, to be plenteous in mercy, is to have the real spirit of Christmas."  Calvin Coolidge

8. Insert your own random thought here. Here is one of my favorite Christmas songs.  when I lived away from my parents I would put this song on and sit in front of the tree missing them tremendously.  The other night I turned on my tree and this song came on the radio.  I am glad I was alone because I had a good old fashioned ugly cry.  I know with each passing year it will get easier, but for some reason this is not one of those easier years.  One day....we will all be together again....and I"ll Be Home For Christmas....right now...it is only in my dreams.  I hope you enjoy it.

 

All I Want For Christmas Is...To Pee In Peace

*Knock knock*

"Mommy? This banana tastes funny! Can I have a cookie instead?"


*Knock Knock*

"Mom? Is the WiFi down? My game just stopped working."


*Knock Knock*

"Amber? What's for dinner? Did you remember to get me more M&Ms?"



It seems the second my ass hits the toilet, I'm asked a question by someone in this house. It's like a silent alarm goes off. "Mom is about to go to the bathroom...I need the answer to my inquiry NOW." I thought since my kids got older (they are 6 and 11) that I'd get privacy. Finally! After years of one of them, or both, accompanying me to the toilet, I could enjoy some peace.

No.

Since they are older, they no longer watch me do the deed because ew, gross, mom has a vagina--but they do pound on the door, interrupting my quiet. Sometimes it's because a beloved toy is missing: "Mommy! I can't find Pinkie Pie! She's scared and lost! I need help!" (What the HELL am I supposed to do about it mid-pee? I ask you, WHAT?)

Sometimes it's because an electronic isn't working.

"Mom? My iPod won't turn on. I'm taking deep breaths like you told me so I don't meltdown but I'm very close to it.." (And then seconds later the iPod is slid through the crack under the door. Um. Can't a chick poo in peace? I even dubbed a term for it when my kids were younger: a PIP. (Poop/Pee in peace.))


My husband joins in. He'll knock on the door and go, "What are you doing in there?"

"Oh, I don't know, Tom. The door is shut, why don't you take a guess?" I'll respond. I mean, really. Duh. And I'm quick in the bathroom too. Unlike Tom, who will spend up to twenty minutes perched on his throne. Maybe I should pound on the door and go, "What are you doing in there?"

WHY DOES EVERYONE NEED MY HELP THE SECOND I TRY TO URINATE?

If I ever come across Santa and he's like, "What do you want for Christmas?" I'll say without hesitation, "A PIP."



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